Shattered Dreams
by DarkAngelLillith
Summary: Follow up of Silent Hill: The Unmaker's Pit Five survivors made it back from Silent Hill. A look on the mechs that have spent a long time caring for them hoping for the time they are well again.
1. Chapter 1: Prowl

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Transformers nor Silent Hill.

**A/N: **Set quite a long time after Silent Hill: The Unmaker's Pit. A look on the mechs that are taking care of the five survivors of Silent Hill. Tell me what you guys think. Like always, tell me of any mistakes and I'll fix them as soon as possible.

"talking"

'_thinking'_

* * *

_**Shattered Dreams: Prowl**_

It took them longer than expected and the prices paid had been high, but the war had ended and to the survivors that was all that mattered. Some were trying to pick up the pieces of lives long forgotten while others were faced with the truth that they had nothing to live for. Rebuilding was hard. The temptation to go back into the now familiar and painfully comforting war was hard to ignore by either faction.

'_Maybe it's for the better he doesn't know what's going on.' _- Prowl thought bitterly as he punched in the code to open the door and entered his apartment. - _'This wasn't the way I imagined things going.'_

Tired optics looked around for the mech he knew was in the apartment. His apartment was small. A small living room of sorts and a recharge room, but secretaries weren't paid much and Prowl couldn't afford a better job. He was certainly qualified, but his friend couldn't take being alone for long periods of time.

The place appeared empty, but Prowl knew the other couldn't have escaped. It had taken him half a vorn to learn how to stop the other from escaping, but there was no way in the Pit the other had slipped past his precautions. The apartment was dark and Prowl grimaced as he checked his chronometer while turning on the lights. He'd been late by a breem…

'_Stupid meeting.' _- He thought with a sigh as he ventured further in the room. Unsubspacing a small parcel and placing it on his desk. - _'Should've left in the middle of it.'_

There was a scuffling and Prowl tensed as his door wings flared up. -_ 'Please don't let him be violent tonight.' _- He pleaded to a deity he knew existed, but had lost faith in long ago. Ratchet had offlined the other's weapons, but Jazz was resourceful and very dangerous if he felt threatened.

"Prowl? That you?' - Asked the ex-saboteur from their obscure recharge room and Prowl relaxed as he turned to look at the other mech.

"Yes, Jazz. It's me." - The tactician said unable to hide the exhaustion from his voice.

Jazz had taken a few wary steps out of the recharge room and into the light. Prowl's optics taking notice of the old human-built radio the ex-saboteur had hanging around like a necklace and the piece of pipe the other had on his hands. Prowl didn't mentioned them, although he wondered what Jazz had broken in order to acquire his makeshift weapon.

Prowl forced himself to turn his back on Jazz, door wings still as high as they could be, as he procured two energon cubes. The cube he got for himself was downed in two big swigs. The silence was almost unbearable and Prowl's spark ached as he longed for his friend to fill the room with his music.

'_Primus knows I'd give anything to see you happy, Jazz.' _- He thought as he approached the ex-saboteur to hand him a cube.

"You can't be him." - Jazz muttered, raising the pipe and taking a step back. - "Prowl doesn't have scars."

Prowl flinched and froze in his tracks, his free hand moving to the welding scars on his face. The ones on his chest plate were less noticeable, but his fingers ghosted over them as well.

A vorn ago, he'd been caught in an ambush and rescuing him had cost the lives of Tracks and the Aerialbots. Ironhide had dragged him back to the Autobase; chassis so horribly torn apart they hadn't been sure it was him until Ratchet confirmed it. The medic had warned him, but Prowl didn't had the luxury of following the medic's orders and as soon as he could walk he released himself from the medbay.

Prowl couldn't bring himself to care that his actions prevented the welds to heal properly and had scarred. He had a war and a friend to take care of. Ratchet was doing what he could to remove the scarring now that the war was over, but the medic had other patients to see and his own set of damaged mechs to attend to.

A tentative touch on his face shook the tactician away from the memories. His optics focused on the mech he'd called friend since they were sparklings. The mech he now admitted was the most important bot in his life.

Jazz's black fingers traced the worst scar. - "You're not Prowl." - He repeated. Grip tightening on the pipe.

"Please, Jazz." - He found himself pleading. He was so tired tonight and if Jazz kept acting like this, he knew he won't be able to get any recharge tonight.

Waking up to having your best friend trying to rip the spark out your body was not Prowl's idea of fun. Jazz's light touch on the scars of his chest plate reminding him of how he got those. At least no one had suspected a thing; believing them to be part of the injuries he got from the ambush.

"Where are the others.?" - Jazz asked, head cocked to one side as his finger kept tracing scars.

"Hound is with Mirage and Ratchet is taking care of Sideswipe and Cliffjumper." - Prowl said. - "Perceptor is with Wheeljack."

Jazz blinked as he processed the information, pipe falling on the floor with a sound that echoed around the room, and quickly moved to get the cube from the tactician's hands. Prowl's shoulder sagged in relief, door wings dropping down in the same position they'd been ever since Ratchet confirmed his friend was damaged.

"I brought something for you."

"High grade?"

"You know you can't drink that. You almost died from over energizing, remember?" - Prowl said, going back to pick the small package he brought with him.

"Too bad it didn't work." - Jazz replied in a mockery of his cheery self. - "I'd give anything for a drink."

Prowl frowned, it had been vorns since Jazz had been able to feed his addiction to highgrade, but the Porsche still crave it. The tactician approached Jazz and the ex-saboteur stopped drinking his midgrade and glanced at Prowl. What the tactician wouldn't give to see the other looking at him with trust instead of suspicion. Jazz didn't say anything, but his optics moved to the pipe and Prowl handed him the package.

Jazz took it and tore it open, a lifeless chuckle coming out of his vocalizer.

"It's newer than the ones you have in our room."

The Porsche gave him a smile. - "I like it. Thanks, Prowl."

The Datsun smiled back. He knew he shouldn't buy the ex-saboteur more radios. He knew he was enabling the other's fixation on the human-built object, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The smile Jazz gave him reminded him of long ago. When he didn't had to keep an eye on what the other drank. When Jazz's voice was music and he brought life and cheer to everyone he met. It was that smile that kept him hoping… Kept him believing that someday Jazz will be well again.


	2. Chapter 2: Mirage

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Transformers nor Silent Hill.

**A/N: **I'm posting this in a hurry cause I need to leave. Tell me of any mistakes and I'll fix them as soon as possible.

"talking"

'_thinking'_

* * *

_**Shattered Dreams: Mirage**_

Mirage glared at the unfinished Towers that loomed over New Iacon. They looked almost identical to the Towers he had lived in before the war and, if Grapple's words were to be true, they'd be even more spectacular than the Towers he once knew. Optics dim and out of focus stared blindly at them. He didn't belong there anymore and he didn't have the war to blame for it.

'_I wanted to show you their splendor when we got back.' _- He thought bitterly. - _'I wanted to give you everything.'_

His spark ached and he wished there was someway to stop the pain. He should stop thinking about it and be grateful for what he got. The surviving nobles may want nothing to do with him as long as he took care of Hound, but Optimus had not allowed them to take his fortune. He smiled as he remembered the faces of the nobles when Prime told them that a hefty amount of their credits would be used in the care of those injured in battle.

'_Serves them right. They don't have any idea how hard the war truly was.'_

Mirage regretted a lot of things in his life. Most of them were from his life as a noble. How naïve he'd been back then... To think that he could go back to being the same Mirage that he'd been when he joined. Pretend that the war didn't happen and he could go back to a life of wealth and no worries.

Instead, he ended up scorned by those he grew up with that survived. Those that had hidden away until it was over. If it wasn't for Prime he was sure it would've been even harder to get a place to live, let alone get back his fortune.

'_Maybe I'm still naïve. I thought that I could help you.'_

The first thing he did when the war was over and he got his credits back was to take Hound to Hydrus Four to see their medics. They had asked him to leave Hound for treatment and Mirage left with the hope that the doctors could save him. But Hound had freaked and killed his doctors. And when Mirage had gone to visit him he found out they had sent Hound to Torkulon,

He'd rushed to the planet turned psychiatric ward, to find that Hound had regressed to the cold, violent mech he'd been right after being rescued from wherever they've been. The ape-like doctors were in a frenzy when he arrived. Torkulon was a semi-sentient planet and its inhabitants were supposed to have control over it, yet Hound had escaped and was hunting them down.

Mirage had never been more horrified at the extent of Hound's little hunting spree. The green mech had gleefully killed, maimed and disemboweled everything in his path. Until Mirage came and took him away from there.

'_Why didn't he kill me? Why am I special?'_

"There you are, ghost." - Hound's harsh voice came to him and he turned around to see the green mech walk into his room.

"Where else could I be, Hound?" - He asked, wondering yet again why the Jeep kept insisting he was a ghost.

Hound shrugged, a scowl on his face. - "Don't know. You could've left with the others to work. Or maybe you were called to wherever the other ghosts went when they disappeared."

"I'm no ghost, Hound." - Mirage replied tiredly, mechanically. He'd given that response ever since they first saw each other after Wheeljack brought them back. And after so many vorns, the response had become automatic.

"You are a ghost. Otherwise, I could kill you." - Hound replied, giving Mirage a calculating look that the other had learned to ignore. He'd been horrified back then, now he was just numb.

"You can't kill me, Hound." - The cultured voice replied, tone weary. - "You couldn't kill me then and you can't kill me now."

Mirage didn't want to challenge him, but the conversation was getting quite old for him. Hound growled, glaring at him with optics that promised death and pain and Mirage shivered. Just because the other mech had never hurt him didn't mean he couldn't if he'd really tried. He'd seen what the other could do and he was sure that if he'd been human, he would've had nightmares about it.

Hound stared at him, optics blazing in anger. It was disconcerting for Mirage to realize that instead of being afraid, he'd been expecting that reaction. It was a fine line he was threading and Mirage was finding out he didn't care much what would happen if he somehow slipped and got killed.

Hound snarled and left Mirage's room making the other blink in surprise. Never before had the green mech backed down. Instead, Mirage had been expecting the other to invade his personal space, making his sensors go haywire and scrambling his processor. Triggering defensive commands that ended making him invisible and forcing him to rush out of the room with Hound's cackling laugh invading his audios. The Ligier was almost disappointed in his apparent victory. Those moments where the closest he'd ever been to the ex-tracker since he came back from wherever he'd been.

"Ghost?" - Hound's, oddly sad, voice came to his audios again and he ignored it. Mirage's optics drifting towards the window.

"Yes, Hound?"

The green mech hesitated and Mirage sighed before turning his full attention on Hound. - "I'm not crazy. At first I thought we were losing our minds. But it wasn't us, it was that town. It swallows up everything in darkness. Until there's only death and blood. That's why we killed. It was either them or us. Sunstreaker didn't see that, but I did. That's why I'm here and he's not. After all, the weak ones always die first. "

Mirage let out shaky sigh. Hope that the ex-tracker had somehow decided to open up to him resurfacing. - "Hound…"

"You don't believe me, do ya, ghost? I can't blame you. You brought me to this nice dream and I can't bring myself to mind. Never thought I'd stop hunting them. It felt so nice to see them dying at my feet."

"Please…" - Mirage's spark ached. The last thing he wanted to hear was Hound's confession of how much he liked killing. It went against everything the gentle mech he met had been before… that…

"I'm wondering why you stay around. I can't kill you and you can't kill me. Is it to torture me?" - Hound spoke as walked forward. Every step he took taking him closer and closer to him. Mirage's engine hitched as he stared at the cold optics of the one bot he'd loved more than himself.

"Please, stop."

Hound stood in front of him, so close any sort of movement would make them touch each other. The green mech leaned forward, making Mirage tilt his head back in response. How could the Jeep whisper using that same harsh tone Mirage had come to associate with him was a mystery. - "Or maybe, you think you can save me. Will you love me? Take care of me? Heal all my pain?"(1)

"Is… is it so bad to do that?" - He forced himself to say and Hound let out a mechanical growl sound of frustration.

"I don't need saving and I can take care of myself."

Mirage wished the other would just leave his room. Leave him to think and compose himself before facing Hound again. Why did the other's presence still affected him? Why couldn't he bring himself to leave him? Why even after all this time was he in love with someone that had gone away and never really came back? - "Hound, I…"

"I know you do. Why do you think I can't kill you?" - Hound said before retreating faster than Mirage ever thought possible.

'_That's not true Hound. You're killing me. I know you are… I just can't seem to let you go.'_

Mirage cycled air in relief, deleting his last thought from his processor. Optics turning back to stare at the unfinished Towers outside. They looked so much like the Towers he grew up in. Yet… They'd never be the same.

* * *

(1) - Wikiquote says Angela Orosco said it in the Silent Hill 2 game.

_Hydrus Four_ - According to Teletraan I, it's a planet known for the high quality of their medical professionals and their zombies.

_Torkulon_ - According to Teletraan I, it's a semi- sentient planet used as a psychiatric ward. It's inhabitants are the doctors and can control the planet.


	3. Chapter 3: Ratchet

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

**A/N: **Tell me what you think of it and any mistakes that you see. I'll fix them as soon as possible.

* * *

_**Shattered Dreams: Ratchet**_

The clinic was located in the middle of New Iacon. It was fairly small, but not many patients went to see him. Only those that had been on Earth, be it Autobot or Decepticon, went to him for repairs. Legend says he's the best medic ever created. Rumor says he's an impostor living off of a hero's fame. The famous Ratchet would not settle for a small clinic. The famous Ratchet would've been able to fix the two mechs they knew lived with him.

Ratchet cleaned his tools meticulously. There was something in the act that soothed him, but tonight it appeared he would need something else. Something to drown his thoughts and forget about everything, if only for a moment. Behind him, Sideswipe sat on a berth playing with that doll of his. Cliffjumper should be in the storage closet.

He took them in after Red Alert's glitch fried his processor. The Security Director had taken care of them diligently. He used to say his paranoia glitch gave him an insight on what they were thinking. But Red's processor could only take so much. He outlived most healthy mechs and all doctor estimates. His death had been expected, but it still shook the Ark crew pretty bad. They were already negotiating the peace. Red deserved to have known what peace felt like before dying, but the Matrix works in mysterious ways.

Left without a caretaker, Ratchet had stepped in. Red had been a good friend. It was the least Ratchet could do for yet another mech he could not help… and one of his dearest friends.

He had failed them all. He could see it in Jazz's recurrent disorientation, in Hound's rages, Cliffjumper's fixation on Sideswipe, Sideswipe's talks with a doll and in Perceptor's unresponsiveness. And though they'd never voiced it, he could feel it in the icy silences and resignation of the mechs that cared for them.

Prowl's scars were a painful reminder of what a failure he'd been. The tactician believes he doesn't notice when a new scar appears. He worries for the Datsun, but the only help Prowl wants from him is the only he can't give. Because you can glue the pieces together, but the glass has been shattered and nothing could change that little fact.

That's why he didn't protest when Mirage took Hound to Hydrus Four. The Ligier had been polite, but the meaning behind the cultured appearance was unmistakable… _'You aren't good enough to fix him.'_, it said and Mirage was right. He'd accepted it a long time ago, but it still stung to know the Ligier had meant that when he said he was taking Hound away.

Despite the hurt, Ratchet had hoped the other doctors could help the Jeep. He'd hoped so badly to see Hound cured. He would've done anything to get the others there if Hound was fixed, but…

Mirage had looked so broken when he returned. He spoke of murder and Ratchet had silenced him. If word of Hound's actions got out, who knows what would've been done. Everyone else thought them contagious. It wouldn't take much for them to start clamoring for their deactivation. It took Prowl's battle computer, and Mirage's money to cover everything up…

At least that's what they belived. Ratchet had some pull and, unknown to them, had done his part to keep what happened a secret.

He couldn't see them deactivated even if he knew it was the only option they truly had. It may be selfish of him, but letting them go would mean giving up. And as long as their sparks pulsed, he would never give up.

"Are you going to stare at that tool all day?" - Cliffjumper piped up behind him, startling the medic and causing him to almost throw the tool in its tray.

"Primus! You almost stopped my fuel pump." He said while turning to look at the bored looking minibot. - "How many times have I told you to not do that?"

Cliffjumper laughed. That annoying, emotionless laugh they all seemed to do. - "Too many. It's not like I do it on purpose, you know."

Ratchet raised an optic ridge at that. - "You don't? Could've fooled me."

Cliffjumper's optics dimmed and the volume of his vocalizer lowered. - "We had to be silent or else they would've found us. They weren't looking for us, you see. Or at least that's what 'Comber told me one day…" - Cliffjumper trailed off, but Ratchet's curiosity was piqued.

"Beachcomber? What did he say?" - He couldn't help it. He had to ask. Even after all this time, they knew nothing of what happened to the others.

"He said they weren't looking for us. He said…" - He was interrupted by a singsong voice.

"Lambs without a shepherd, shepherd without a flock. It's their sins which hold them here."(1)

Apparently the twin was finished 'talking' with his 'brother' and had decided to join their conversation. Ratchet had tried to make him a bigger doll with blue eyes, but Sideswipe had freaked. Which only escalated because Cliffjumper wouldn't let anyone get close to the remaining twin. First Aid stopped working with him after that and Ratchet never again tried to take the doll away.

Even though what he said made no sense to Ratchet.

"If it was their sins, how come we got stuck there too?" - Cliffjumper asked, gravitating towards the bigger mech; who didn't complain when the other started rubbing his helmet.

"She created a nightmare that she cannot stop. That's what Sunny says. That she didn't knew what to do with us so she treated us like the others." - Sideswipe intoned, leaning into Cliffjumper's touch like an attention-starved child.

"She could've let us go." - Cliffjumper said moving away.

"Only the dark one opens the door to Silent Hill. She didn't open it for us, yet we slipped through. I think she was angry for that."(2) - Sideswipe said, optics focused on the doll he believed was his brother.

Ratchet sighed. He couldn't believe what they said was real, because if it was… Ratchet shivered and left the two to continue talking while he finished putting everything in order.

"Sunny says it's late, Ratchet. We should go home now, right CJ?" - Sideswipe declared, taking the tools from his hands and placing them in the drawers.

"If that's what Sunny says and that's what you want, then yes we're going home now."

Ratchet glared at the two. Sideswipe's childlike smile seemed so familiar to the smile that had adorned his face when one of his pranks was successful. Now, it just looked out of place with the cold stare of his optics. He could see the similarities with Sunstreaker now. Ratchet mourned the loss of an incredible fighter and a walking piece of art. The world was truly a little darker without him.

Cliffjumper's optics shone with life, something that only happened with Sideswipe. Everyone else would receive emotionless responses.

'_At least they're aware.' _- He thought and quickly chided himself for thinking that.

"Are you even listening to me, Ratchet? Sideswipe said it's time to go home. Now move."

A child-like giggle escaped Sideswipe's mouth plates as he took the medic's hand, like a little child waiting to be led. The doll carefully held on his other hand and started moving towards the door. Cliffjumper right behind him to lock the place before the trio could head to their apartment.

He knew they all thought the same thing. - _'Why can't you make him aware like you did with Sideswipe and Cliffjumper?_'

Little did they know that Ratchet had done nothing.

Sideswipe's small sanity came from a doll called Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper's sanity rested on catering to Sideswipe's wishes. And if he could only find a similar trigger to the other's awareness…

That's why he didn't give up and do the 'humane' thing. As long as there was a possibility he would take it. Even if he knew the chances of them ever going back to be the mechs they were before were minimal. If he could give them that little bit, it would be worth it.

* * *

Quotes taken from the Silent Hill movie:

(1) Dhalia Gillespie: Lambs without a shepherd, shepherd without a flock. It is your sins which hold you here!

(2) Dhalia Gillespie: Only the dark one opens the door to Silent Hill.


	4. Chapter 4: Wheeljack

**Disclaimer: **I do not own either of them.

**A/N: **Nothing came out as I expected and I don't know if I should feel good about this chapter or not. Tell me what you think and any mistakes you find. I'll fix them as soon as possible.

* * *

_**Shattered Dreams: Wheeljack**_

Wheeljack was absorbed in his work. For someone that had been self taught, Soundwave's schematics for an efficient energon converter didn't need any adjustments. He couldn't wait to try it out!

'_Shame Perceptor can't help me. He would've loved to have been able to work on something like this.' _- Wheeljack thought and shook his head. It would not do to get distracted now. Contrary to popular belief he didn't like to see his experiments, which he spent so much time working on, blow up.

A beep alerted him that it was time to go and drink some energon. He was suddenly reminded of the times when he didn't stop working for days or until Ratchet came in and banned him from the lab. Now, he couldn't afford to miss a drink in fear that Perceptor would just sit there until he was empty.

He got the cubes slowly, preparing himself for what was about to come. What little cheer he had been able to scrounge up dissipating as he went to his office. Like Ratchet, he didn't dare to leave Perceptor home alone. He had his own reasons to do so, but was afraid to voice them. To speak of them would make them real and he was halfway sure he was going insane too.

The ex-scientist sat on Wheeljack's chair, straight and unmoving. Optics staring at nothing and fingers twitching slightly. The engineer knew the other wanted his violin, but Wheeljack couldn't allow the other to bring it to the lab. The less that instrument was used, the better. He'd never heard Perceptor play, but his previous three neighbors complained about it. And where later found dead. He cursed himself for having made it in the first place.

'_I… I thought it would make him happy. Help him heal.' _- He thought sadly, knowing he had meant well and it had blown up in his face worst than any explosion he'd ever been in.

There was no recognition nor movement as Wheeljack approached him.

"Hope you're hungry, Percy. I got my hands on some good stuff." - Wheeljack said with forced cheer. It wasn't Perceptor's fault that he was like that. He didn't deserve everyone acting like it was a tragedy to be around him.

Perceptor didn't answer, but that didn't surprise Wheeljack. Instead, he continued talking. - "Soundwave gave me the schematics for that converter I told you about. You would've loved to see it! That mech knows his stuff."

Perceptor moved, fingers grasping the cube and slowly drinking it. Wheeljack paused to take a sip from his own cube. - "I talked to him and he said he would take a look. I think he was scared, Percy. He admitted to never scanning a mech with a damaged CPU before. I think he's curious, but…" - Wheeljack paused as Perceptor continued drinking completely oblivious of everything around him. - "If he can't help ya no one can. The rumors were true, you know? He's a telepath."

Wheeljack let out a forced chuckle. - "I know you may not see the reason why I think he can help. Ratchet has done everything he can, but he's working blind. If Soundwave can scan the reason why you got damaged then maybe Ratch can make a difference. I can't build a cure for you, but he's willing to see you if I build his converter. I know, I know, we've been working together for quite a while, but he said yes, so it doesn't really matter."

Almost on cue, the blue mech entered the office. He gave a brief nod of recognition to the tired looking engineer. - "Project completion behind schedule."

The engineer knew the other was annoyed. Vorns of dealing with mechs that seemed to have their emotions drained out of their sparks made it easier for him to pick up the feeling from the other's vocalizations. - "I warned you that I need to stop frequently for Percy."

Soundwave made a noncommittal sound, visor scrutinizing the red mech. - "Perceptor ready?"

Wheeljack let out a snort. - "As ready as he'll ever be. I told him what you're going to do, but I don't know if he heard me."

Soundwave didn't respond. He walked forward until he was in front of Perceptor with only the desk between them.

Wheeljack silently watched everything. This was the first time he'd see the ex-Con do something like this. Soundwave had told him most information required almost no effort to get. But this was his first incursion into a damaged CPU.

Merely a breem passed with Wheeljack watching Perceptor and Soundwave. Both mechs hadn't moved and Wheeljack's apprehension grew. What if this was a mistake? What if Soundwave got hurt and word got out? What if Soundwave said he didn't find anything? He was aware that the others had more or less resigned themselves to their fates, but Wheeljack still held on. He had to hold on.

Because he knew it was all his fault. If it hadn't taken him so long to find out what had happened to them. If it hadn't taken him so long to build the machine to bring them back. They wouldn't had been damaged.

There was a flash of red in Soundwave's visor and the mech shuddered. Wheeljack watched as the blue mech distanced himself from Perceptor looking as if the Devourer himself was the one sitting on his chair.

"Soundwave?"

"I should have hold on to him tight. I wanted to hold him back so he wouldn't leave. Why did he leave?" - Soundwave said and Wheeljack knew something had gone wrong. Because although the voice was Soundwave's, it wasn't him that was talking.

"Who left?" - He asked, getting up but not knowing if he should go to Perceptor's unmoving body or to Soundwave's trembling form.

"Beachcomber. He went to end the nightmare. But it won't stop. Hatred clouded her heart long before we got there and the only way to pacify her is with blood." - The cassette holder replied and Wheeljack watched helpless as Soundwave cradled his head in his hands as if in pain. Soundwave's finger's denting it as a scream made his way from the blue mech's vocalizer.

A scream that tore at Wheljack's spark and made him rush to the ex-Con's side as Soundwave fell to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Through it all Perceptor sat; a smirk on his mouth components the only movement he'd done. His optics unseeing as Wheeljack used what knowledge in medicine he learned through the war to see what was wrong with Soundwave. Praying to anyone that was willing to listen that the cassette holder was okay.

'_No one was supposed to get hurt…'_

He wasn't surprised when Soundwave's cassettes came bounding into the lab asking questions he couldn't answer. What little trust he had gained from them had been broken. Soundwave had been the only one to approach him with an invention. All the others had left him alone when they realized that to work with him they had to deal with Perceptor nearby. Only Soundwave hadn't been afraid of the microscope illness and look how Wheeljack repaid him.

'_Please. Please. Wake up. Soundwave. Please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't had asked. Come back.' _- Was all that he could think as he fixed the dents and performed scan after scan to recheck that there was no damage he couldn't be fixed.

It would be an entire cycle of vigil until Soundwave's visor onlined. The Cassettes were around him, but Wheeljack needed to give Perceptor his energon. The red mech didn't recharge, but Wheeljack had never seen him do that after he came back. Perceptor's fingers twitched…

Damn that violin…

"Wheeljack." - Soundwave said from the entrance of the office.

The engineer didn't stop watching Perceptor drink his cube. Trying to force himself to delete that horrible smirk from his memory banks and surprised to find himself without the strength to do so. He couldn't forget or else he'd repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

"Are you okay?"

"I am…" - He trailed off and Wheeljack turned worried optics towards him. - "I am one hundred percent operational. I will never attempt that again, Autobot."

"I won't ask you to." - Wheeljack whispered in relief. He wanted to ask what had happened. What had gone wrong, but he didn't dare.

"I saw." - Soundwave said making his way to the engineer. - "His mind is clouded by death, Wheeljack. He.. They lived what none of us should live through."

"What could be so horrible as to do that kind of damage?" - Wheeljack asked hugging himself, trying to get some form of comfort.

He hadn't been fast enough to save them. He made Soundwave go through the same hell.

'_It's all my fault…'_

"No one can force me to do what I do not wish to do in the first place." - Soundwave said with a hint of superiority that made Wheeljack smile sadly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"I was curious. I would have offered." - Soundwave replied, dismissing the apology. Turning his visor to look at Perceptor.

The ex-scientist just sat there and Wheeljack found himself reaching to turn the blue mech's face away from his damaged friend.

"Death comes in music, Wheeljack." - Soundwave said, blue hand coming to rest on top of the hand that was on his face. - "He lived life as a maggot. They all lived lives as maggots. The music played in his head when the one that talked too much put a bullet in his own head. He hummed her song while the yellow twin was nothing but internals splattered on the floor. His spark is calling for the one that was lost to the fog."

Wheeljack's spark sank as he heard the other speak. He'd heard the others speak. Could it be that he had damned Soundwave to their insanity. A dark chuckle came to his audios as Soundwave pulled him closer. Wheeljack's protests were canceled as Soundwave leaned down to whisper. - "I am not insane. He played the violin for Tracks and the Aerialbots before they went to rescue Prowl. He played for Red Alert before he went to recharge the night his glitch took his life. And he will keep playing until the one he lost comes back. Their energon for his blood. Their lives for his life."

The horror that filled Wheeljack could not be described. What Soundwave implied… No, not implied.. What Soundwave was saying couldn't be true. Perceptor wouldn't do a thing like that. Perceptor was kind and polite and wouldn't hurt an Antilian bumble-puppy. Yet, he couldn't forget the smirk Perceptor wore as Soundwave screamed.

"Primus!" - He whispered. - "He killed them? All of them? On purpose?' - He was still hoping for Soundwave to say it wasn't the truth. That he could be mistaken.

"Can you blame him?" - Soundwave said. - "Death needed a reaper and he was chosen. She promises the one in blue and white if he feeds the fires of her hate."

Wheeljack pushed Soundwave away and started pacing. There had to be a way to fix this. There had to be a way to make it right. He couldn't fail again. He couldn't bring himself to even think about deactivating Perceptor. No matter how many deaths.

He'd never heard the other play and Soundwave's claims of a song being the cause of death seemed ludicrous to him. He was a science mech. Surely there was some logical explanation for all of this…

But how many neighbors had died shortly after they complained about Perceptor playing the violin? That's why he brought Perceptor to work without it. That is what he couldn't bring himself to voice, because he'd been right… Saying it had made it more true. Saying it had made it unable to ignore.

"Deactivation only option. Anything else will be a temporary solution." - Soundwave said as he watched the Lancia pace around the room.

"How can you say that?" - Wheeljack exclaimed. - "I can't kill him! There's something I can do. There's always something you can do!"

"Destroy all the instruments of the universe and silence his voice. As long as there is song he will kill for her."

Cybertronians can't cry, but the pain that was tearing him apart made Wheeljack let out something that sounded like a sob. This time Soundwave didn't approach him.

Perceptor's unmoving presence was unnerving. It was his fate that hung in the balance and yet it was like he didn't care.

'_His life for the world.' _- Thought Soundwave coldly. He had seen the darkness inside Perceptor's processor. He'd heard the faintest echo of a song. He had no fear of dying. The song was not meant for him. It was meant for someone more important. It was meant for the one mech that brought the mighty Decepticon Lord to his knees.

He'd watched the scientist struggle to care for Perceptor while being ostracized by the scientific community. All because he couldn't leave his friend. Such a selfless thing to do. Only an Autobot could do something like that…

Yet, he'd seen the potential in the engineer. Wheeljack was on the Ark for one reason and one reason only. He was the best in his field. Soundwave wasn't built to be a science mech. War had demanded he learned if he wished to stay on top and he did so. Making a partnership with Wheeljack had seemed ideal for him.

The Autobot wanted his inventions to be used and Soundwave could take full credit for them. Because no one wanted to use the inventions of the one that cared for a damaged bot. He never foresaw this coming, but here he was willing to do something for the sake of an Autobot.

"I can kill him for you."

Wheeljack froze, frantic optics settling on him. - "What did you say?"

"I can kill him for you." - He repeated.

"Get out." - Wheeljack said, weapons that haven't been used in quite a while coming online as he placed himself between Perceptor and Soundwave. - "Get out before I kill you."

"As you wish." - Soundwave replied. He could get his cassettes and head as far away from Cybertron as possible, but first… - "One day you will hear his song, but you should know the next one to die will be Prime."

Wheeljack turned to look at Perceptor. Sweet, gentle Perceptor. Forever unmoving and unseeing. Perceptor who had been his friend and who would never give up on him or anyone. Perceptor who had only wished for peace and the day they could live without factions tearing them apart. Perceptor who was smirking at him the same way he'd smirked when Soundwave was screaming…

'_You know I can't kill you…'_

Wheeljack straightened up, weapons offlining. He gave one last look at Perceptor before addressing Soundwave, voice coming out shaky. - "I… I'll take the cassettes for oil shakes. Just…"

"For you there will be no pain."

"I… I'm sorry, Percy. I know it's my fault, but… but I can't… not him.. not Prime…" - He tried to speak to his lost friend, but nothing coherent came out. He had to get out before his resolve crumbled. Making his feet move was difficult, but when he walked past Soundwave he couldn't help but whisper a thank you.

Gathering the cassettes was easy and soon they were drinking oil shakes. He forced himself to laugh at the cassettes' antics. He forced himself to act like everything was normal.

Funny how he couldn't remember what normal was. Too much time fighting and caring for someone who only came back to cause death. Did he ever came back?

'_Why Prime? Anyone but Prime.' _- He thought and couldn't help but be scared at himself for thinking such a thing.

It didn't take long for Soundwave to join them. A nod was all he needed to know the deed was done. He wanted to scream. He was sure his spark could not take more hurt. It was all his fault. He was the one that deserved to die. Not Percy…

'_Primus, why Percy…'_

There was a blue hand on his shoulder and a red visor peering worriedly at him. Around him life went on. There was peace in Cybertron and as long as Prime was alive there would be peace. That was all that mattered, right?

He didn't acknowledge that nagging voice on his processor that whispered to him. The same little voice that told him it was never his fault. The same little voice that said he had saved them. That voice that, now that he thought about it sounded too much like Sunstreaker for his comfort, was now whispering to him…

'_The nightmare is over and he is where he belongs. You're free now, Jack. Just Live.'_

* * *

There are no direct quotes this time. But…

_Antilian bumble-puppies _- according to Teletraan I, they are an adorable life-form native to the Autobot colony of Antillia and Autobots are pretty fond of them.

Is it okay if I plead for my life here? I feel horrible now. Can't believe I killed him…


End file.
